Comrades
by cmgacrux
Summary: As drowsiness enveloped her, slowing her heartbeat and thickening her blood, she whispered his name, and then they drifted off, entangled, his head pillowed against her chest, the beads braided into his long hair adding colorful archipelagos to her unmarr


Disclaimer: Don't own them.

A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful beta djarum99.

Feedback is appreciated.

**Comrades**

_by_

_Claudia M. Gacrux_

_----------------_

The lush dark green forests of Madagascar faded away as the rays of the dying sun sparkled on the inky water, coloring it scarlet and golden-orange. The sky dripped with crimson, smeared with clouds and cloven by dusky masts shimmering like granite pillars. The flutter of canvas wafted through the air, accompanying the silvery tinkle of cowrie shells. Elizabeth was sitting on a cannon, one leg folded under her, her back pressed against the rail. With unseeing eyes, she stared at the shell necklace in her hands, her mind foggy with thoughts. Although a month and a half had passed since she had last seen Will, the memory of witnessing him plunge his father's dagger into the heart of Davy Jones was still fresh in her mind. Too fresh. It haunted her during sleepless nights, mocking her, making her ask herself if she had really done everything to stop Will from condemning himself to the grim fate of the _Flying Dutchman's _captain. For some odd reason, she felt guilty. Perhaps she had been too focused on herself to notice his worries, engulfed by the murky waters of fear, feelings changing so fast that she hadn't been able to fully comprehend them. Maybe she could have saved him. Maybe. She would never know for sure. Regrettably, she couldn't turn back time, and even though she supposed the pain of losing him would subside eventually, she was certain it wouldn't happen anytime soon. After all, she had loved him for many years.

Heaving a sigh, she closed her eyes as the ocean whispered sweet nothings in her ear, calming her, and the wind tugged gently at the braid flowing down her back like a stream of liquid gold. The _Pearl _hummed a lilting tune as the slick, iridescent scales of numerous fish slid over the keel and teased against the barnacles. The masts creaked overhead, adding their own sound to the melodious voices coming from the depths. Suddenly languorous, Elizabeth felt the invisible hands of slumber touch her, stroke her face delicately, almost lovingly, coaxing her muscles into relaxing, making her feel weightless, boneless. Her head lolled forward, her lips parted, and then she suddenly found herself standing waist-deep in turquoise water, clad in a plain dress of white silk, her honey hair flying in the light breeze. The sea foam surrounded her as the waves splashed against her body, and the sun shone at the zenith, bright and round as an orange. When a golden voice called her name she looked over her shoulder.

"Darling," Jack called to her, crossing the strip of blindingly white sand stretching between the emerald forest and the sea. He looked exactly as he had when they had been stranded on the rum-runner's island, only he wasn't angry with her. A roguish grin spread across his features as soon as she met his gaze, and he beckoned her over with a careless wave of his bejeweled hand. "Lizzie!"

A smile broke across her face and she ran to him, bunching up her skirt. Her heart fluttered in her breast, as though it were a bird ready to fly out of her chest, when she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. Her eyes falling closed, she breathed in his scent, heady and sweet, as his hands traveled up and down her back, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. Sighing contentedly, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, listening to his steady breathing and whispery tones, feeling his heart beat against her chest.

"Elizabeth," he said, pulling away. His eyes glittered with an unfamiliar emotion as he leaned forward, and she moistened her lips in anticipation, feeling a twinge in her stomach. He glanced at her mouth and his fingers brushed her cheek, making feverish excitement rush through her body.

"For Heaven's sake, Bess, wake up!"

Suddenly the scene faded from view and her eyes shot open. Golden sunshine tinged with purple blinded her momentarily, and she blinked a few times, disoriented, as her heart raced in her chest. With a whimper, she rubbed her eyes as the sky glowed with ribbons of navy and burgundy, and the familiar slosh of rum reverberated in the ocean-scented air.

"Jack?" Her voice was thick with sleep, unnaturally hoarse, and she cleared her throat, her eyes finally getting accustomed to the light.

"The one and only," Jack said, perching on the cannon with a bottle of rum in his hand. "Now, Lizzie, sleeping on your watch is no way to go about your duties. You are irresponsible, love," he added, looking at her from the corner of his eye, and took a swig from the bottle. Remembering what had transpired earlier that day, she felt the sudden urge to tell him she wasn't going to speak to him, but thought better of it. Instead she glowered at him and crossed her arms.

"You should have allowed me to stay with you," she said, trying to sound indifferent and failing, her tone and the pout of her luscious lips betraying hurt.

He sighed, scooting closer to her. "I merely wanted to protect you, to save your _tender _hide, as it were," he said, meeting her gaze, his breath smelling like rum.

"Did you now?" She leaned forward, bringing her face a hair's breadth from his, her breast touching his arm. "I have told you countless times before, I am _not_ a child. I can manage on my own," she said haughtily, with a ginger twinkle of irritation in her eye. "I don't need you to protect me."

His dark gaze swept over her face, fixing on her lips for a moment, and then he looked away. "I know," he said, a trace of a grimace flitting across his features, and raised the bottle to his lips. Bathed in the sun's multicolored glow, he suddenly appeared somewhat uncomfortable and strangely distant, his shoulders slumped as if his coat weighed more than usual, his eyes clouded as the sky before a storm, and yet he remained silent, as though engaged in an inaudible discussion with himself and the ocean itself.

Watching him curiously, Elizabeth leaned back against the rail, slightly satisfied with the outcome of their conversation. "You should apologize."

Stilling the bottle in mid-air, he looked incredulously at her. "I'm not going to apologize for sparing myself the trouble of rescuing you from the locals," he said in a voice that brooked no argument, his expression suddenly unreadable. "Don't you see? They thought you were an omen of ill fate. Said you were too thin and too fair-skinned for a woman."

Pressing her back harder against the rail, she glared at him, seething with indignation, as hurt and insecurity seared her heart. She wanted to ask him if he thought so, too, but she suppressed the question, feeling the bitter taste of anxiety in her mouth. Inhaling deeply, she stared at the horizon clutched by the twilight's shadowy fingers. She listened to Ragetti warbling a shanty in an off-key falsetto up in the rigging. Loose strands of her hair dancing in the wind, she absentmindedly fiddled with the necklace, her bony fingers suddenly clammy.

"Where did you get that?" Jack said all of a sudden, gesturing at the necklace with the neck of the bottle, mildly interested.

"Tia gave it to me when we last visited her," Elizabeth replied, avoiding his gaze. "She said it would keep demons away from me."

"And you believed her?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, a shadow of doubt playing across his countenance.

"Don't you always believe her?" Elizabeth responded and felt a blush creep up her face when she met his patronizing gaze. Suddenly he seemed older and more mature as he smiled good-naturedly at her, genuinely amused, his behavior reminding her of the way her father had acted whenever she had said something completely nonsensical.

"Lizzie," Jack sighed and patted her thigh. "Remember the jar of dirt? It didn't prove useful," he said, standing up, the beads in his hair jangling gently. Embarrassed, she squirmed on the cannon, feeling his gaze on her, her cheeks burning even hotter when he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be in my cabin," he murmured before he headed toward the Captain's Quarters.

"Jack! Wait!" She sprung to her feet, suddenly wanting to somehow redeem herself in his eyes, but he didn't stop.

"Play with your shells, love," he called over his shoulder, barely able to keep laughter out of his voice, and entered his cabin with a swish of his coat.

----------------

The low purr of timbers and the ragged whisper of hot breath squeezing through the cracks in wood vibrated in Elizabeth's head, igniting sparks of excitement in her whole body, as she closed the double doors with a soft click. The air was smoky and silver with some strong smell that suddenly quickened her pulse when she drew a deep breath and stepped forward, her boots thudding against the floorboards. At night the Great Cabin was a collection of shadows and gleaming objects, a surreal haven from the world. A universe of curious metal instruments sparkling in the starlight, maps portraying faraway lands with precise strokes of ink, and leather-bound volumes written in tongues so exotic that Elizabeth's head spun each time she saw the strange tangles of symbols and actual letters stretching across the pages. There was no doubt in her mind that Jack treasured all his possessions, for even though the cabin seemed somewhat messy, everything had its place; he always knew where to find the things he needed; or at least he pretended to know.

Brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, she glanced at him lying in the bed, his bare chest rising and falling gently, a dark red blanket draped across his waist. He appeared peaceful and younger, unaffected by the hardships of life if not for the two bullet scars painting angry circles on his golden skin. Moving as quietly as she could, she approached the bed and sat on it, her gaze fixed on his face as she admired his chiseled nose, full lips, and high cheekbones. Watching him sleep, she wanted to touch him, reached out to do so, but she suddenly remembered their conversation. Her hand suspended in the air of its own accord. Uncertainty washed over her in waves, violent and discouraging, as she shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he didn't want her to be here; after all, their newfound intimacy didn't necessarily mean as much to him as it did to her—he had had many women before her.

"Shouldn't you be on deck right now?" his rich voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest, their eyes locking. "The night watch isn't over yet."

Feeling cold all of a sudden, she rose to her feet as a shiver of disappointment and a flush of anger warred for dominance inside her. "You want me to go?" she said as dispassionately as she could, willing herself not to show any emotion and finding it very difficult. "Very well, then," she added, turning to go, when he suddenly sat up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Her skin burning at his touch, she looked quizzically at him as the blood churned in her veins.

"I didn't say that," he smirked, a playful glint in his dark eyes. "Stay."

Her mouth fell open as she tried to utter at least one word, but her mind was suddenly blank and she was tongue-tied. Feeling silly, she nodded and expelled a shaky breath when he pulled her toward him, her shins brushing the bed frame. She sat back on the bed, this time closer to him, and a quiver of excitement went through her body as a new sense of urgency awakened in her. She knew what they were about to do; they had already done it a few times, and yet the mere thought of him atop her, claiming her as his, flared the fire of desire low in her abdomen and made her heart race in her chest. Meeting his gaze, she lifted a hand to his face, and he turned his cheek into it before he wrapped his long fingers around the heel of her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, the pulse throbbing there. His obsidian eyes glimmered with secrets and lust as he examined her for a moment, his lips still pressed to the veins pulsing with the rush of her blood, his breath warm against her palm. He was contemplating something as the moonlight touched him with a lover's gentleness, making his body luminescent, weaving silver threads into the golden satin of his skin. It was suddenly obvious to her that he was both a creature of the night and the child of the sun, wild and mysterious and unpredictable in his deviousness.

Whispering his name, she straddled him, and his hands moved along her thighs and up to her hips, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She took his face in her hands, his stubble coarse against her palms, and he pulled her closer as she pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss, her nipples teasing him through her shirt. With a groan, he slanted his mouth across hers as his calloused fingers brushed her silky skin insistently, making her tremble with the need to hold him as close as possible. Suddenly he was like a force of nature, fierce and unstoppable, and Elizabeth found herself caught in a whirlwind of emotions, lost in him. Moaning and whimpering as his tongue swept her mouth hungrily time and time again. She tightened her arms around him, clinging to him as a lifeline, one hand tangled in his black mane, the other tracing the raised skin on his back, his name a moan deep in her throat.

Time seemed to pass faster as they explored each other with their mouths and hands, and soon she was writhing beneath him, naked, her ivory skin a sharp contrast to the copper hue of his body, as his nimble fingers slipped inside her wet heat. His ministrations to her pliant body were the sweetest torture possible, building tension inside her, bringing her to the peak, and yet not allowing her to drown in ecstasy. Every fiber of her being thrummed and responded to the slightest touch of his hand and tongue as she professed the need to become one with him in gasps, clutching his wiry dreadlocks and the sheets in her delirium.

"Eager, are we?" he grinned against her thigh, devilish and divine, like an angel fallen from grace. She knew he was both her salvation and damnation, a corrupt guide leading her to the point of no return, but she didn't care. She had nothing to lose and much to gain, so when he finally entered her all thought fled her mind, replaced by the feel of him inside her, pulsing and hard. All of a sudden he became ferocious and impatient, and she may have cried out his name more than once as he thrust into her, chanting endearments into her glistening skin, his beard barely grazing her. Her legs ached with the strain of pulling him closer, _deeper, _she dug her nails into his shoulder blades, making him grunt, as her muscles gripped his cock.

His teeth bit her rosy nipple, and she came soon after he'd finished, streaking her thighs wet and warm; his jeweled fingers sent her into the depths of oblivious rapture, breathless and sated. Panting, he collapsed on top of her as his arms gave out—his weight atop her a pleasant result of his exertion. With shaking hands, she stroked his back, the scars that clung to it like a pearly spider web of memories, an intricate shroud of pain and torture. A sigh slipped past her parted lips when he kissed her sternum, her slender arms and legs wreathing around him like ivy, pulling him closer and trapping him against her with the last remnants of her strength.

As drowsiness enveloped her, slowing her heartbeat and thickening her blood, she whispered his name, and then they drifted off, entangled, his head pillowed against her chest, the beads braided into his long hair adding colorful archipelagos to her unmarred skin.

----------------

The early sunlight streamed through the glass in creamy tendrils and ribbons of gold as the sun's amber orb leaked like a clepsydra, and rivulets of ocher dribbled into the ocean. The _Pearl _rocked gently as a cradle, ever mindful of her Captain and the crew, as the bell tolled the morning watch mercilessly. Partially awakened, Elizabeth stirred at the sound, hearing the shuffle of feet and the rumble of boots against the planks. Her eyelids felt heavy as she tried to open her eyes and assess her surroundings, ignoring the dawn light as best as she could.

"Morning, love," Jack's voice rumbled close to her ear, making her eyes snap open. "Sleep well?" he asked, standing beside the bed. He pulled on his shirt, her eyes catching a glimpse of muscles shifting under his skin. Suddenly uncomfortable, she sat up, her hair spilling over her shoulders and chest in shimmering waves, as she glanced around and pulled a sheet over her breasts.

"Yes, thank you," she mumbled, and he smiled smugly at her as he busied himself with putting on his vest. When she remembered the previous night and the things she had told him, drunk on him and emboldened by lust, she blushed from head to toe and averted her gaze, moving to get up even though her legs and arms felt a little sore.

"Stay here."

Tingling with surprise and sudden excitement, she looked at him. "Why?" The question escaped her unceremoniously, granting her no time for thought, and she felt oddly unprepared for his answer as her breath caught in her throat.

Peering at her from under his long, thick lashes, he tied a sash around his waist and plopped down on the bed. "Gibbs," he said, his dark eyes boring into her, and she was suddenly very disappointed, although she didn't know why. Staring at him with confusion swirling in her caramel orbs, she unconsciously clutched the sheet more tightly as Jack offered her a charming smile, a brilliant flash of ivory and gold that made her insides twitch.

"Sure as a tide, he's already up and plotting to scold you for neglecting your duties," he said, smirking at her mortified expression. "No worries, darling, he'll forgive you soon enough. Your Captain will see to that," he added, fighting to keep a straight face.

Leaning against the wooden headboard, Elizabeth groaned, putting her head in her hands. "You will? I wonder why."

"Don't ask if you don't want to know the real answer, Lizzie-dear," he said as he lay down beside her, folding his arms behind his head.

Intrigued, she peeked at him. "Oh, but I do want to know. Tell me, Jack."

"Well," he propped himself up on his elbow, the dreadlocks falling across his shoulder, and looked into her eyes. "Considering you are a fairly good pirate—and a nice lass, mind you— and Gibbs is my first mate..." he trailed off, fixing his gaze on his hand, as if expecting one of his rings to speak for him, his face expressionless. Watching him expectantly, Elizabeth cocked a skeptical eyebrow, amusement and laughter building in her chest.

"Let's just say, I don't wish to witness any animosity aboard my ship. Savvy?" Jack said with a lopsided grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously, as he looked back at her.

"Jack, be serious," she said, trying not to laugh. "I want the truth."

"The real truth?"

"Is there any other?"

"Obviously," he said, faking shock, his eyes wide, his hand pressed to his heart. "There are the real truth, the truth one wishes to believe, the false truth also known as a lie, and of course, my personal favorite, the half truth," he explained, brushing his fingertips across her forearm in a most distracting fashion, before he pulled her down next to him and whispered in her ear, "So, which one do you want?"

Taking a shaky breath, she tried to focus on his words rather than actions, but his hand trailing down her body wasn't making it any easier. "The real one," she said as her heart slammed against her rib cage.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed theatrically and rose to his feet. "You will never change," he muttered, glancing around as though looking for something. She smiled in spite of herself as the rays of sunshine fell upon her and she closed her eyes, willing her erratic heartbeat to calm, but to no avail. Thoughts of him swirled in her mind, insistent and abundant, while she ran a hand through her hair, her fingers catching on a tangle and making her wince.

"We're comrades, 'Lizabeth," Jack spoke all of a sudden, startling her.

"Beg pardon?" she blurted, feeling her heart stop, as her eyes shot open and the blood froze in her veins.

"Comrades. You and I, I and you. Us," he said, donning his coat, his voice devoid of emotion, his words an echo of the past. "Comrades."


End file.
